


Good Morning

by sighmon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, POV Second Person, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 10:32:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12167142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sighmon/pseuds/sighmon
Summary: The Reader (that's you!) wakes up in a stranger's bed one morning after what you hope was a lovely night full of fun and debauchery. You can't seem to remember much of anything though, so when it turns out that aforementioned stranger is a pink haired Russian who could bench you in her sleep, well that's a nice surprise.





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So! This was my first attempt at writing a fic in basically forever. Wanted to try something, and that something was to write in the second person, which I have never done before up until this piece of work right here. It's fluff, absolutely shameless fluff. I also tried to avoid using any sort of specific pronouns or descriptors for the reader because I felt like it'd be nice to leave it open for anyone and everyone to be able to slot themselves into the role. Anyway! Yeah! This is what happens when I get self indulgent at 3AM and decide to write fluff in a style I've never used before. Enjoy! I hope!

Swirling colours, vague shapes undulating to and fro. Those were just about the most solid recollections you had of the night prior. There were however, two things you were sure of. The first being that you were very much still alive, and the second being that you were very much in a stranger's bed. Though thinking about it, the first one was still up in the air, perhaps this stranger's bed was the afterlife. Maybe you would have pondered the ridiculously out of place existential crisis that was that train of thought, if you weren't still so addled from the anomalous antics you had partaken in before the sun had come up. Now though? The sun was up and it's light was pervasive, something your sleepy self wasn't very fond of.

Through reluctantly open eyes, squinted to the extreme, you tried your damnedest to take in your surroundings. It wasn't exactly the most incredibly decorated environment, the walls were mostly bare, all the way down to one wall being bare down to the brickwork itself. It was over near that wall that your still slowly focusing eyes would flit across a set of weights, more intimidating and comprehensive than you would see in most actual gyms. Thinking about it, there were much worse sights you could wake up to. It was then that you realised that you were, in fact, very much alone in the stranger's bed. Where were they? Perhaps they had stepped out, maybe this was the perfect time to make your sneaky exit, it was a one night stand, surely. That must have been why they had left, giving you a window to leave.

No sooner than you had begun to ponder how best to slyly sneak and slink your way out of the surely sticky situation, the door began to slowly swing open. A woman, standing at such a stature that she had to dip her head down just a smidgen to fit through the doorway. The hair upon her head, a damp pink tousled mess, practically the only dose of colour present on her person at that moment in time. All she wore was a sports bra and a pair of little workout shorts, both a simple grey, and you supposed that if you could really stretch the meaning of what it was to wear something, the towel that was draped around her neck and over her shoulders maybe counted too. While your eyes were glued to her unexpectedly well built frame, vision finally coming into focus properly as she made her way across the room, her eyes were instead fixated almost directly downward.

A tray of food and drink, breakfast in bed, something she seemed to be working extra hard on keeping balanced as she approached the bed. The tip of her tongue poked out ever so slightly from the corner of her mouth, an apparent nod to the aforementioned focus.

“I wasn't sure what you wanted.” Her voice was accented, thick with a Russian lilt that was -much like the very sight of her- unexpected to the highest possible degree. “Maybe you are vegetarian?” She would add, eyes managing to lift from the tray to glance at you for a moment with a quirked brow.

You were already taken aback by the mere sight of the woman, but the fact that she had prepared breakfast for you, and the fact that she had prepared a small slew of things just in case? Well, part of you was wondering how much you could mentally reel back before you began to physically warp through the nearest wall. As she placed down the tray on the messily bunched up white sheets, she seemed to visibly relax now that she had managed to weather the storm that was carrying things from A to B. A smile tugged at her features, a mixture of both simple pride from the subtly grand gesture, and a fair dose of...what was that, happiness? She seemed genuinely pleased to see you again. Which only made you feel that much guiltier, considering that each time you tried to recall her name all you were greeted with was a ringing sound thumping off of every possible wall between your ears.

For now though, you simply smiled back at her, it was hard not to. You couldn't remember the last time someone had made you breakfast in bed, or if that actually ever had happened before at all. Plus, seeing her smile at you like that was just infectious enough that you couldn't help but join her. That smile persisted as she climbed back onto the bed with you, sitting cross legged and facing you fully. At least, that was both her goal and her intention, but it didn't quite go as smoothly as that. The tray, while now settled neatly on the bed, did it's fair share of juddering as she climbed onto the bed to join you. As a result, that warm smile that played across her face turned into a look of momentary horror as she had to dart out a hand to quickly steady one of the tall glasses of orange juice that sat on the tray. You tried to help too, reaching out but not quite as quickly as her, it's the thought that counts. With a sigh of relief, she turned her attention back to.

“Woops.” The word came out amid a chuckle as she finally shifted about to get nice and comfy beside you. Again, she was infectious, and you found a laughter much the same as hers falling from your lips. It was a quiet moment, silly and oddly comfortable considering you may very well have accidentally ended up in Russia. The laughter honestly didn't show much sign of fading away, even as you began to push and slide your way up to recline against the head of the bed, body flanked in plush pillows. It did end though, but not because the situation was any less bubbly or comfy. Rather, it ended because she had leaned across to capture you in an almost chaste kiss. Your lips floundered to respond in kind as she nipped at your bottom lip, before she broke the kiss, pulling back maybe an inch or two tops, her eyes catching yours before quietly murmuring.

“Good morning.”


End file.
